


Miss the Signs

by Gnine



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Crownsguard Training, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'm totally blaming Kaciart for this, because I continue to be unable to help myself, brotherhood era, hurt!prompto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 07:41:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16828168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gnine/pseuds/Gnine
Summary: Noctis threw up his hands, "So he's a little late sometimes, how is that a real problem?""When an assassin has a blade to your neck, we just hope they patiently wait twenty minutes for Argentum to show up?"OrFinding a good work/life balance is a struggle, but then again, so is becoming a Crownsguard.





	Miss the Signs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kaciart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaciart/gifts).



> [Kaciart](https://kaciart.tumblr.com) did a wonderful pic on her patreon back in August that made me want to fic right then and there, but real life sorta slammed into me full force and I've only just managed to restart the creative juices recently. But all the h/c crimes against Prom can be laid at her feet. Really. ^_-

Cor kept the grimace internal.

A nearby cadet glanced up, caught his gaze momentarily before paling, eyes darting back down.

Mostly internal.

The source of his ire appeared entirely focused on the drill, stance solid, movements smooth. If Cor hadn't noticed him slipping hastily into position only moments earlier, he could almost be convinced Cadet Argentum had not in fact been tardy for the third time in two weeks.

Being one of a very select few with full knowledge of the origins of the baby that would eventually go on to be called 'Prompto Argentum', Cor had been less skeptical and more intrigued when the Prince had put forth his friend's name for cadet Crownsguard training.

So while others argued over how viable a proposal it was, Cor began compiling a mental list of possible abilities, attributes and the most effective ways to test them. By the time his highness had finished steamrolling over all objections, he was prepared.

Three weeks in, however, Cor had drawn no firm conclusions except one.

"Cadet Argentum, my office after class." 

The flinch was impossible to miss, even from halfway across the training hall.

"Y-yes sir."

******

If not for a well-placed stopper, there would be good-sized dent in the wall from the force of the door banging open.

"What the hells do they mean, you canned Prom?" Noctis demanded.

The door rattled in its frame as it was slammed shut once more following the Prince's melodramatic entrance.

Cor dropped the report he'd been perusing, resigned to its loss in the sea of paperwork covering his desk. Looked up slowly before addressing the roiling ball of royal teenage rage fuming before him. "The rules are made very clear on the first day. Additionally, Argentum was warned— _twice_ —to show up on time or not at all."

"And what, three strikes and you're out?!"

"Yes."

"Are you _kidding_ me?" His highness slammed his palms down on the desk, scattering pages left and right; leaned forward to glare. "Was he screwing up any drills? Causing any problems, not taking it seriously?"

"No. His performance has been adequate."

Noctis threw up his hands, "So he's a little late sometimes, how is that a real problem?"

"When an assassin has a blade to your neck, we just hope they patiently wait twenty minutes for Argentum to show up?"

Noctis's mouth snapped shut on whatever retort he'd been preparing. The Prince threw himself into the nearest chair and glowered.

Cor took the reprieve to scoop up some of the fallen papers, and waited. He'd dealt with his fair share of teenagers over the years since he'd taken on cadet training. It rarely took long.

"You know he's a student, with midterms coming up," Noctis bit out not long after.

Cor shrugged. "So are you. And at least half of this term's cadets."

" _And_ he's got a job."

"Not my problem."

"But--" the Prince began to splutter.

Cor cut him off. " _My_ problems start within these walls, out on that floor. It's _their_ problem to at least get here. On time."

Noctis’s teeth worried wordlessly at his pursed lips for a moment. Then, "If he can fix that. Be here, on time—every time…" the Prince began, equal parts hopeful pleading and stubborn determination. 

On the one hand, Cor loathed going back on a decision like this; one slip and that slope was suddenly steep and oil-covered. On the other hand, it was undeniable how much more focused, not to mention actually _in_ attendance, the Prince had been with his training in the past few weeks. And then there was the argument for having a Crownsguard the Prince wasn't actively trying to dodge at every opportunity.

"One more chance."

The smile that briefly lit Noctis's face flashed Cor back to years before: a happy toddler giggling as he tumbled about the training hall, laughing from his father's lap as Cor not so surreptitiously showed off. The mostly-blank-with-just-a-hint-of-a-scowl princely mask slipped back on all too quickly as he rose."I'll go let him know."

The abused door was left mostly open, still swinging gently on its hinges upon the hasty exit. 

*****

Regardless of the numerous warnings, safety reminders and endless precautions put into place, the start of heavy weapons training always signaled a significant uptick in the number of training hall mishaps. It didn't matter how much previous training or preparation they had; highschoolers’ bodies were rarely developed enough to offer the required control. But it was too important a part of their future as Crownsguard to ignore. Passing familiarity earned early could open promising doors later. And with the way things were going beyond the wall, they needed every promise they could get.

Which meant Cor was more resigned than anything else to hear the single piercing wail that sliced easily through the clang and clamor of twenty cadets attempting to whale on each other while wielding weapons more than half their size. There was a unmistakable tenor that accompanied real pain. The volley of swears and panicky shouts only confirmed what Cor had known instantly: one of his students had already managed bodily harm.

Less than ten minutes into the first sparring session should be a record. Sadly, it wasn't even close.

"Make room," Cor ordered calmly as he pushed his way through the crowd of curious cadets. "Anyone not directly involved, back to your partners, continue the drills." Catching Adiutrice's eye over the milling crowd, Cor nodded towards the front. As he moved to assess the situation, he could already hear her clear voice ringing out to assume command of the class.

Cor never did sparring drills without at least two other instructors present. That was the first lesson he'd learned when he'd taken on cadet instruction.

The second had required a concession to certain of his principles, but not all external forces could in fact be divorced from training. Such as how the majority of his students always arrived exhausted and frayed around midterms. For this reason, heavy weapons training was carefully scheduled to never begin until after all the area's schools had finished their exams week, giving the cadets ample time to bounce back.

In theory.

As enough bodies moved aside, Cor finally spotted the downed party. He'd had an inkling, even before the distinctive tousled blond hair came into view.

Crouched next to Argentum's prone form, hands fluttering close but not touching, Cadet Nescia looked one step away from full panic. She glanced up at as Cor knelt beside them, eyes huge, voice hoarse. "I…I think I b-broke his arm."

Unfortunate if true. Regular potions were mostly ineffectual with broken bones, and any stronger curatives still in Insomnia were in reserve for only extreme emergencies, the majority created sent immediately on to the front lines. If it was broken, it'd be mending the natural way. 

"What happened?"

Argentum was curled into a loose ball around the injured limb. What little could be seen of his face at this angle revealed brows furrowed in pain, eyes shut and breathing shallow. Best to know what they were dealing with before trying to move him.

Nescia swallowed. "I...I thought he was lunging for an attack, went to counter. But…I don't know, he fainted or something. He went down and I couldn't stop my swing in time and there was this s-snap—" She swallowed, looked vaguely ill. "We’d only just started, I know I hadn't hit him earlier or anything, I swear. He just—passed out! H-he was kinda out of it since the beginning of class, but…"

Grunting acknowledgement of the cadet's assessment, Cor nodded for her to move back.

This past Monday, when every other student came back looking more rested, relaxed and ready than they had in weeks, Argentum had seemed more drained than ever. But he'd shown up, early even, and on time the next two days as well; had put in the usual effort in class. Requirements satisfied, Cor had noted it and moved on.

Recognizing a possible bad call for what it was was important, but never pleasant.

"Cadet?" Cor kept his voice firm, but low. Reached to give his shoulder a gentle shake. The boy’s eyelids fluttered but stayed closed. "Argentum? …Prompto?"

The last finally earned him a low groan. "M-marshal Leo..nis?" The words were slurred enough to be barely comprehensible. 

"That's it. Take it—" Blue eyes suddenly shot wide; he was in motion before Cor could finish. Motion that was abruptly aborted when the suspected broken arm moved. The cadet having made it halfway to sitting, Cor intervened before Argentum could slump fully over again, slipping a bracing arm around his back.

Pressed close like that, Cor could feel Argentum’s full body tremor, breaths coming in harsh gasps. Moments earlier he would have sworn it wouldn't be possible to get any paler; the kid was proving him mistaken yet again.

Cor just made out the panted, "F-fuuck!" and felt the subsequent tensing as it registered who could overhear him. "Um…I m-mean…ouch?"

Cor's involuntary response was somewhere between a snort and a chuckle. "Broken bones earn a pass when it comes to polite language."

Argentum swallowed, nodded slowly. "Oh…w-wait, broken bones? S-shit...is that…would that be why my arm hurts?" Cor couldn't say if it was shock or whatever had caused him to collapse in the first place, but Argentum definitely wasn't processing at full speed. His expression suffused with confusion.

Nescia, who had been near vibrating with the effort to stay back, burst in, "Prompto, I'm so, soo sorry! I swear—I mean, it just happened so fast—I swear it was an accident."

Argentum blinked slowly, raised his good arm a bit to flap a hand vaguely, dismissively. "Nah, s'fine. Was probably my fault. Almost certainly, completely…um…what happened?"

Nescia looked pained, Argentum more disoriented than ever. Cor bit back a sigh. "Let's get you to the infirmary and get that figured out. Can you stand?"

At the hesitant nod, Cor tightened his grip, took the majority of the kid’s weight. Nescia jumped forward to assist on the other side, allowing Argentum to focus primarily on cushioning his arm from any major jarring as they rose.

"Slowly," Cor cautioned as Argentum struggled to get his legs under him, less stable than a recently calved anak foal finding its footing for the first time.

He steadied after a moment, bit his lip, exhaled. "O-okay."

Cor had no intention of letting go entirely, but backed off a bit, nodded over to Nescia. "Return to class, Cadet, I've got it from here."

After only a small pause, face scrunched like she wanted to protest, she moved off.

Though the drills had resumed, Cor didn't miss the whispers, head turns as they made their way to the door. Argentum had seemed fully occupied with the monumental task of staying upright while putting one foot in front of the other, but as soon as they reached the quiet of the hall, he cleared his throat.

"S-sorry for disrupting class so m-much."

"Injuries are an inescapable part of combat training."

Not for the first time Cor found himself grateful to whoever had the forethought to put the training hall and infirmary in the same wing of the Citadel, almost adjacent. At little better than a shuffle, even the short walk was taking time.

"Cadet Nescia thought you passed out prior to her strike. Any ideas as to why?"

As far as he could tell, there was no fever, cough or congestion. Cor had gotten far too experienced at spotting most obvious cold or flu signs; they had a tendency to run rampant like wildfire through an entire class if not dealt with early.

"Oh, uh...P'rob’ly low blood sugar." Argentum looked away, shoulders hunching slightly. "Didn't eat m-much today…"

Cor decided to hold off on his lecture about proper nutrition for developing teenagers combined with the strenuous daily physical routine of a cadet in training. For one thing, the kid was already looking the proper amount of embarrassed and guilty at that admission, and second, from the continued pain and or shock-induced haze still present in his gaze, Cor doubted any of it would register.

A hunch proved doubtless correct just a few moments later. One instant Argentum was walking, albeit at a pace a snail could easily out-glide; the next he was a felled tree in the woods, only without the timely 'timber' to herald his imminent collapse.

Cor had a sudden sympathy for Cadet Nescia; the speed Argentum went down at, eyes rolled back, legs replaced with jelly, even with one hand still supporting him and half expecting it, Cor was still hard-pressed to keep him from colliding with the floor. Or wrench the injured arm even more.

From the pained whine that wheezed out, Cor guessed he'd failed on the latter. Beyond that, Argentum was unresponsive. With the doors of the infirmary in sight, Cor didn't bother trying to rouse the kid this time, just adjusted his stance, bent and hefted him up into his arms.

It was even easier than he was braced for. Argentum was on the slight side, sure, but he had arrived for Crownsguard training already in fairly good shape; the ensuing workout Cor'd been putting them all through the past month should have been packing on the muscle. The body he was holding now felt more like a pile of bones with some stretched skin the only thing holding it all together. 

Cor had known a number of teenagers over the years who could eat double their weight in food every day and still be thin enough to count each rib individually, a combination of naturally fast metabolisms and overzealous growth spurts in action. But this, this felt different.

Quick strides ate up the last few step. Cor mentally adjusted the planned speech about missing the occasional meal to his detailed lecture on the importance of a regular, balanced diet and disciplined eating habits critical for maintaining proper fighting physique.

Once Argentum had been handed over to the medical personal, with instructions to hopefully uncover the underlying cause for the collapse in addition to treating the break, Cor retreated. On his way back to class, he detoured to his office for Argentum's emergency contact info.

Phone ringing, he strolled over to the back wall, where the picture window offered a full view of the training hall below. 

Adiutrice had the cadets in a semi-circle, one pair up front, running through a basic drill step by step. A quick count revealed everyone else accounted for, no further mishaps apparent. Yet. That was something, at least.

On the tenth ring, the call switched over to a generic voicemail. Hanging up, Cor pulled up the secondary number, frowned when a tinny voice immediately informed him that said number could not be completed as dialed. Trying the first one again, he left a brief message offering basic details, and an instruction to call him as soon as possible.

Breaking his own rule of phones off in class, he thumbed the ringer loud enough to be sure he wouldn't miss it and rejoined his remaining students.

******

Class was over, the assistant instructors briefed on the upcoming lesson plans and an urgent matter about a possible breach in wall security handled, and still no call. Cor loosened his grip lest he crush his phone as it ticked over yet again to voicemail. A voicemail he couldn't even be one-hundred-percent sure belonged to the person he was trying to reach.

A brief call to the infirmary confirmed they'd had no luck either and would be keeping Argentum overnight, having judged him unfit to be released on his own.

The med wing was quiet at that time of night, most of the lights dimmed and just the one nurse, Adam, at reception, who tucked aside his phone and glanced up as the automatic doors swished open. "Ah, Marshal, checking up on your latest victim?"

Cor let his unimpressed look do most of the talking. "Status?"

Adam sighed, gave up on the latest teasing attempt. "Clean break; barring unforeseen complications, it should heal just fine. And definite malnourishment, as you suspected. Beyond that, Doc wanted to have a longer discussion, but she just finally left for the night."

He couldn't say he was surprised.

"Which is probably all for the best, seeing as you're on Doc's shit list. Again."

Cor sighed. Nothing new. "What's it this time?"

"You know she likes as much warning as possible if any of the royals are gonna descend..."

Closing his eyes briefly, Cor took a deep breath. "Someone told Noctis." That was definitely what this day needed.

He'd been planning to explain it in person—tomorrow---after the trade negotiations which had been consuming all of both King and Prince's time for the last week and a half were set to conclude.

"Ayup. You may have neglected to mention when you dropped the kid off that he's the Prince's best friend. But we're aware now. Are we ever." The nurse looked somewhere between laughter and tears. "His highness arrived over an hour ago; the kid was still asleep and thus us lucky souls got to bear the brunt of the Prince's…ah…interest and concern. Actually surprised you didn't come sooner, thought he sent someone scurrying to find you a while ago. Things only calmed down in last twenty minutes or so."

Cor pinched the bridge of his nose, the headache that had been threatening for the last few hours giving a good go at fully manifesting.

"But pretty sure his highness is still here. So, have fun with that. Round the corner, end of the corridor on the left." With a cheery wave, Adam went back to his phone.

Following the directions, Cor found the indicated door open, but the privacy current around the bed pulled closed; the soft susurration of conversation going on beyond masking his arrival.

"Look, I know you get all…picky about what you eat and stuff. But…c'mon." Adam was correct, the Prince was indeed still here. And sounding somewhere between awkward and annoyed—which often translated to concerned in Noctis's case.

"Noct…can we just…skip this, 'least for t'night?" Apparently Argentum had woken up. Though his words were vaguely slurred and consonants blunted in the way of one still half asleep. Or on heavy drugs. Or both, as was most likely the case.

"She said you were _literally_ starving. A diet is one thing, but you have to eat _something!_ " While Cor could sympathize with the frustration driving every word, the Prince's choice of timing and manner of address could use some work. Reaching out to pull the curtain aside, Argentum's huffed reply made him pause.

"S'not like I’m _choosing_ to starve."

Silence. Then, sharp and low, "What does _that_ mean?"

"Uuh…nothin'. Just that…y'know…I mean, c'mon, aren't pain meds famous for making people say wonky stuff? Ignore me…"

"Prom. What the Fuck. Does. That. Mean?" In recent years, Noctis had taken to clamping down on most emotions, a wall of apathy his most common façade. But Cor had had the…privilege of witnessing some of the Prince's more memorable outbursts, often but not limited to exchanges with his father. Knew intimately how deep, not to mention volatile, his moods truly ran, and recognized the potential explosion in those clipped words.

As did Argentum, from the way he caved a moment later.

"…Look, I messed up, okay? The rent went up and the my parents are out of town so haven't been able to deal with it yet and the monthly deposit just had to be stretched and…and I budgeted badly, so groceries…"

"—what, got skipped? Dude, they're kinda important!"

"I _know._ Did you not just hear me saying I fucked up my budget?! I—"

"Wait…your parents are out of town _again_?"

"Y-yeah."

That explained the unanswered calls. Ominously so. Cor was liking less and less the picture that was beginning to develop. One that the Prince had already had a glimpse of, evidently.

"We talked about this. Didn't you agree last time they disappeared to parts unknown that you'd come crash with me next time you were alone?"

"Which I did."

"For what, a night? The last time you stayed for more than a day or two was that week at the beginning of August."

Silence, except the rustle of shifting cloth, and a nervous cough. Followed by the screech of a chair being scraped along tile as it was abruptly moved. "Wait, have they been gone since _August?_! That's almost four months!"

The mounting horror clear in Noct's voice mirrored a similar sentiment rising in Cor's own gut.

He was torn between breaking in to join this interrogation himself, guaranteeing it continued on the trajectory needed; and staying back to allow the Prince to see it through. With the way Argentum clammed up in Cor’s presence, a clear, at times actually vibrating, ball of nerves, the latter would likely prove the more informative route. 

"Prompto…" Noct's voice had fallen again, the drop in volume matched by an inverse increase in intensity. "When did the rent change?"

The answer, when it came, was quiet enough Cor had to strain to hear it.

"End of July."

"Gods dammit it!" The drape swished as Noctis shot to his feet; backlit by a bedside light, Cor could make out the silhouette of his figure as he paced about the small space within the curtain. "Why didn't you _say_ something? I told you—"

"Look, it wasn't a big deal, alright? I had to rearrange some stuff, cut back a bit. It was fine…m-mostly. It was only this month, last few weeks, that I miscalculated…and…things just got a little out of hand. "

"…This month?" The roving feet just visible disappeared, seat once more taken, on the edge of the bed this time. "It's because I told you to quit your job—you said it was no big deal, just wanted some extra spending money, you--"

"And it wasn't—"

"Not being able to eat is a _very big deal_! Making you quit the one thing allowing you to put food on the table is a big fucking deal!"

"You didn't _make_ me quit. I told you, they were so gonna can me anyways, I just beat 'em to the punch."

"Because you kept showing up late. Because of Crownsguard practice. Which I made you do. Fuck."

Cor couldn't help but echo the sentiment. This was information he definitely could have used earlier. And might have received, if he'd cared to ask for it. Which he'd actively chosen not to. 'Fuck' summed it up nicely.

"No! Noct…seriously, you didn't _make_ me do anything. You gotta know…when you said you wanted me in the guard, when you gave me the formal invitation-- _me!_ \--Y'know that was, like, the best day ever! Like I was ever turning that down. 'Gee Noct, thanks for this tremendous honor, but I gotta say no just so I can buy some lousy groceries—'"

"So you could _eat!"_

"Seriously, it's fine. Y-you're making this into way more than it really is. It's…it's just a temporary thing."

"Just _temporary_ ?! You have a _broken_ arm! The doctor said you were 'severely malnourished'. How is any of that fucking _fine?!"_

"The arm's supposed to heal as good as new. Better. Breaks make it s-stronger, right? …And as soon as I get back to a regular eating schedule—" The inarticulate growl that Noct gave only seemed to fuel Argentum's resolve. "Which will be soon. Just—just as soon as my first paycheck comes in. Been working a new job this week."

"Prom…" Noct sounded on the verge of tears or violence or both.

"—And I know what you're going to say, but don't worry, this one's not going to interfere with training at all. Entirely night shift, no overlap. S-so…so…"

He trailed off into a deafening silence. One Noct finally broke with a muttered. "Clearly you don't."

"I…what?"

"Know what I'm going to say. Since that would be 'so then when the fuck do you intend to _sleep?'"_

Argentum gave a nervous chuckle, a cross between embarrassed and guilty. "Uh…sleep when you're dead?"

Which would be sooner rather than later, with the rate he was driving himself into the ground. Or even sooner, if Noct gave in to the murderous impulse his strangled groan of utter frustration suggested he was contemplating. 

Cor missed whatever Noct's next response was, a call of "Ah, Marshal! Excellent, we had been looking for you" drawing his attention back to the hall. Ignis was strolling towards him, carrying takeout from one of the more acceptable places in the Citadel's vicinity. Gladio trailed behind him, swinging a school bag in one hand, gym duffle in the other. 

Behind him came the sound of the curtain being flung aside at full speed, the surprised squawk of 'Marshal?!" overridden by the much more accusatory "Cor!" from the Prince.

Cor nodded back over his shoulder. "Your highness. Argentum."

At the acknowledgement, the latter's eyes went wide, shoulders hunching even as he began to push himself to a more upright position. The action was halted halfway with a restraining hand on his shoulder from Noctis. A good call on the Prince's part, as Argentum's pallor continued to share a shade more with spoiled milk than human skin; the arm not encased in a cast had an obvious tremor visible from halfway across the room.

Further visual assessment would have to wait until Cor’s view was no longer obstructed by Noctis. Who had once more thrown himself to his feet and was now standing ramrod straight, arms crossed, planted firmly in front of his friend.

"How long have you been there?" The question was hissed, with an air less princely and more in keeping with the cats he so favored; Cor could practically see Noctis's back arching in full protective territorial ire.

"Long enough."

"You even _think_ of trying to use this as another excuse to kick him out and so Astrals help me, I'll fucking—"

" _Highness,_ " Ignis's coughed interruption came out mostly chiding, but as he joined Cor at the open doorway, the slight eye-roll that accompanied the warning headshake was more exasperated than reprimanding.

Argentum's simultaneous "Noct!" was just plain scandalized. 

"I was just stopping by to check on the condition of my student." Cor met Noctis's glare head on, trusted his highness could read between the lines as he emphasized the last words.

A blond tuft just barely peeked out around his sudden human shield, good hand tugging at the Prince's shirt. "T-thank you for the concern, Marshal. But I'm f—"

"If the word 'fine' is about to come out of your mouth, I 'd fucking think again." Noctis's interruption came out bullet fast, tone even if razor sharp; the stare he was leveling at Cor, however, remained unbroken. Behind him, Prom trailed off with a nervous laugh, swallowed audibly.

"—doing a lot better."

"Good."

For a moment silence reigned supreme, a frozen tableau. Cor broke it with a rough clearing of his throat. "As to the matter of your job, there may be a solution—"

"Oh, so _now_ it's your fucking problem?"

"Noct!" Between their three voices, the censored bark had a full octave spread.

But though Cor was beginning to debate giving both Crownsguard and Glaive a talk about exactly what kind of language was appropriate to use around their Crown Prince, the sentiment behind it Cor could unfortunately not find complete fault with. 

His handling of the situation up to this point had room for improvement. 

"That's fair," Cor acknowledged with a tilt of his head before any of the others could intercede. Noctis's eyes widened slightly; otherwise he gave no further sign of relenting.

Cor sighed. There were occasions he questioned his own sanity in not only taking on, but in fact requesting, tackling cadet training. Teenagers ever proved…complicated.

Behind him, Gladio used the latest conversation lull to push his way into the room. "Hey Blondie, thought you might like your stuff. Also, dinner." Depositing the two bags beside the bed, he turned back to Ignis, who stepped forward with the food.

"The doctor had some recommendations about what would be best," Ignis explained as he began removing various steaming containers from the bag.

"Oh…uh, thanks, but you really didn't need to. It's late, I'm sure you all have more important stuff to do. And I should probably—" 

"—eat." Noctis had finally relinquished his position of defense in favor of hauling up the built-in bed table over his friend's lap, managing to reign in his force enough to only spill a few drops of the soup he grabbed from Ignis's proffered hands and slammed down on the tray. 

Only after Argentum had meekly picked up the offered spoon and taken a hesitant bite did Noctis grab his own dinner, perching on the edge of the bed as he begin to eat.

Finished readying plates for the others, Ignis turned to Cor. "Marshal, there's more than enough here if you'd like—"

Cor waved him aside. "I have other matters to see to. However, Cadet?"

Argentum paused mid-slurp, hastily swiped a hand across his mouth. "Y-yes sir?"

"About your employment. Working a night shift is unacceptable." Ignoring both Argentum's guilty wince and the royal storm once more brewing, Cor pushed on. "But, I believe there are several work-study programs in the Citadel and within the 'guard that you should be eligible for. After you get out of here—" Cor held up a restraining hand as he could see Noctis scrambling to swallow, protest already forming on his lips. " _And_ are one hundred percent cleared by medical to resume any and all activities and training, we can look into placing you in a position, if you're interested."

Mouth emptied, the Prince immediately jumped in. "He's not going to need it, I can—omph!"

Argentum delivered the kick even as a bright smile blossomed across his face. "That would be awesome. Thank you so much, sir."

Nodding a general farewell to the room at large, Cor excused himself, the sounds of the latest argument following him out.

"Dude, you can't just start, like, supporting me."

"Oh? Pretty sure I _can._ "

"I can take care of myself."

"That's debatable." Gladio drawled dryly.

"Hey!"

"—And beside the point, seeing as you shouldn't _have_ to. If your parents aren't going to, we sure the hells _are._ " 

"But--"

"Prompto, while Noct could perhaps apply a bit more tact, it is true that…"

Whatever truth Ignis was about to lay down was lost as Cor turned the corner, but he had faith the point would be successfully conveyed.

*****

It was well past midnight when the knock came on his office door. Clarus didn't wait for a response before he pushed his way in. One eyebrow raised as he took in the almost empty tumbler of whiskey by Cor's hand.

"Should I ask?"

"It's been a long day." Cor scrubbed a hand over his face, before hitting send on the carefully worded mail to his contact in child services. "In part due to my own fuck up."

"Let me guess, one Prompto Argentum?" Cor raised his glass in confirmation, threw back the last few dregs. Clarus groaned, dropping into an open chair. "Not you too."

Setting the empty tumbler on his desk, Cor raised an eyebrow. "Too?...Gladio?"

Clarus grimaced. "Along with Ignis. And then from Reggie about an hour ago, after Noct tried to cancel his appearance at tomorrow's engagement and refused to leave the infirmary until his friend's discharged. Look, if they all managed to miss the signs, you shouldn't blame yourself either. "

Cor shrugged, offered Clarus a glass as he reached to refill his own.

"And give the kid credit, he's apparently better at prevaricating than anyone realized. He clearly intended to keep anyone from finding out, just happened to do a very good job of it."

Cor snorted mid-pour. "There is that. Actually…hmmm."

Clarus paused as he reached for the glass. "Should I be concerned about whatever idea you just had?"

Cor let his chuckle trail off into a sigh. "Probably. But…Seemingly innocent, unassuming, surprisingly deceptive, almost alarmingly self-reliant. It occurs to me I have the makings of a promising spy on my hands."

"Hmm…" Clarus swirled the suggestion around same as he did to the whiskey in his glass. "Not the easiest of roles."

"Uh-huh."

"Dangerous."

"Exceptionally."

Clarus offered a silent toast, threw back his drink in one gulp. Grimaced. "Promise me one thing?"

Cor nodded, waited.

"Make sure I'm absent, preferably out of Insomnia all together, when you breach this subject with his highness."

With a genuine laugh, Cor offered his own silent cheers and downed the glass.

The End 

  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Saltslimes for the beta and encouragement and to Xparrot for continued sororal support even when she's hoping I'll channel my creative endeavors to certain other fandoms...^__-
> 
> On [Tumblr](https://gnine2.tumblr.com) if anyone wants to join me in the randomness


End file.
